#Adamo Hospitality

[sofia-the-traveller]

September in Mumbai: The Best Monsoon Experiences You Can't Miss

Mumbai is a sensory spectacle in September, when the city is engulfed in lush foliage and the grandeur of the monsoon. The city provides a revitalizing blend of cultural events, outdoor getaways, and thrilling interactions once the rain eventually ceases. There's no denying Mumbai's allure in the monsoon, whether you live there or are traveling for the first time. To make the most of your trip, selecting the ideal lodging is equally essential.

Here are some must-experience activities and the best places to stay in Mumbai this monsoon.

1. Marine Drive: A Rainy Walk Along the Queen’s Necklace 

During the monsoon season, Marine Drive has a certain allure. The Queen's Necklace, a 3.6-kilometer promenade, is a wonderful spot for a leisurely evening stroll. The dazzling city lights and the surf beating on the tetrapods create an otherworldly mood. After taking a stroll, you can treat yourself to some hot tea and pakoras from the local vendors. Staying close to Juhu Beach or Andheri West makes sightseeing in this well-known area easier.

2. A Rain-Drenched Day at Juhu Beach

The crowded beach is deserted, making for a serene environment for strolls along the shore. Savor some street food, such pav bhaji or bhel puri, while you watch the rain gently fall over the Arabian Sea. Making arrangements at one of the closest hotels near Juhu Beach, like The Empresa Hotel, which is ideally located in the heart of Andheri West, would make it easy for you to enjoy the beach's monsoon magnificence.

3. Sanjay Gandhi National Park: Explore Nature’s Monsoon Beauty

September is the ideal month to visit Sanjay Gandhi National Park if you enjoy being outside. The park's abundance of vegetation makes the hikes more picturesque and invigorating. The toy train offers a short tour of the park, and the monsoon enhances the grandeur of the Kanheri Caves and its numerous pathways. Those staying at Andheri hotels may easily access this urban sanctuary located in the heart of Mumbai.

4. Cultural Immersion at Prithvi Theatre

Mumbai's monsoon evenings are ideal for exploring the local culture. Art enthusiasts should not miss the amazing plays, musicals, and art exhibitions held at the Prithvi Theatre in Juhu. Relax at the Prithvi Café with a delicious cup of coffee after the concert. When you stay at The Empresa Hotel, one of the Best hotels in Andheri West, you can be certain that you will be close to this centre of culture.

5. Monsoon Shopping and Dining in Bandra

Shoppers in Mumbai should undoubtedly visit Hill Road and Linking Road in Bandra, particularly in the rain. When you're done shopping, stroll through the charming restaurants and cafés that line these routes. Some of the best places to stay in Mumbai are conveniently positioned, so you can fully immerse yourself in Bandra's modern culture.

6. Stay at the Best Hotels in Mumbai

Selecting the ideal lodging is essential to making the most of your Mumbai monsoon. Here are some excellent choices if you want to stay close to the beach, the airport, or well-known neighborhoods like Juhu and Andheri:

The Empresa Hotel: Nestled in Andheri West, this boutique hotel combines modern comfort with impeccable service. Its central location makes it an ideal base to explore Mumbai’s top attractions, including Juhu Beach and Marine Drive. It’s a top choice for those looking for the best hotel in Andheri West.

Hotels near Juhu Beach: For travelers who want to soak in the beach vibe, hotels near Juhu Beach offer the best proximity to the ocean and local attractions like ISKCON Temple and Prithvi Theatre.

Best Hotels near Mumbai Airport: If you prefer convenience and want to stay closer to the airport, choose from the best hotels near Mumbai airport for a comfortable stay with easy access to the city’s main landmarks.

Hotels in Andheri: Andheri East and West are prime locations, offering an array of options from luxury to budget stays. This is the best area to stay if you’re looking for quick commutes to business hubs and entertainment.

7. Monsoon Getaway to Lonavala

If you have a little more time, think about scheduling a monsoon trip to Lonavala, which is only a few hours' drive from Mumbai. This highland resort comes alive with waterfalls, misted mountain views, and an abundance of greenery during the rainy season. A quick day excursion to Lonavala might provide you with a revitalizing break from the metropolis.

Final Thoughts

September is a beautiful time to visit Mumbai because of the rains, which give the city a unique beauty. There are plenty of things to do, such as exploring natural parks and well-known sites, enjoying local cuisine, and engaging in cultural events. Scoop up a room along Juhu Beach, Andheri West, or the airport at one of Mumbai's best hotels for an incredible stay. Don't forget to include The Empresa Hotel in your monsoon trip plans for a luxurious and useful place to stay!

[adamothebellus]

Best Accommodation in Goa – Stay at Adamo The Bellus, a Top 3-Star Hotel in North Goa

Adamo The Bellus offers the best accommodation in Goa, providing a perfect blend of comfort and luxury as one of the finest 3-star hotels in North Goa. Located near the serene beaches, our hotel is ideal for those seeking relaxation and convenience. With well-appointed rooms, modern amenities, and exceptional hospitality, Adamo The Bellus ensures a memorable stay for every guest. Enjoy our swimming pool, spa, and proximity to popular attractions. Whether you're here for leisure or business, we guarantee an unforgettable experience. Book your stay with us today and enjoy the best of North Goa!

[gaur9258]

4 star hotels in calangute goa

Book Ravishing and Luxurious 4-star hotels in Calangute Beach Goa, North Goa - Adamo The Bellus. A Destination for Global Travellers assuring scenic views and unquestionable hospitality. The Fine view of the Arabian Sea with various other amenities like Spa, Swimming pool & Multi dining options.

[aria--rossi]

Character Development Q’s

BASICS:

Name:  Aria Rossi

Nickname:  N/A

Birthday: March 25th

Age: 34

Gender: Female.

Place of Birth: Launceston, Massachusetts

Current Residence: London, United Kingdom.

Nationality: Italian-American 

Parents:  Michael and Giovanna Mantovani 

Number of Siblings: Four Sisters: Gianna Auditore, Mia, Bianca, Carina Mantovani

Children: Michael Rossi 

Relationship With Family: Aria is EXTREMELY close to her family. Even though she doesn’t necessarily approve of the “family business” she would do anything for them. 

Happiest Memory: Spending time with her father. Aria can’t pick just one instance because she always felt her time with him was so special that she treasures any time that they were together 

Childhood Trauma: Lighting the match when she was 13 that not only burned down a building, but killed a man 

PHYSICAL:

Height:  5′ 5″.

Weight: 128 lbs

Build: Slim 

Hair Color: Blonde

Usual Hair Style: Messy bun on top of her head, down in loose waves, depends on her headspace in the morning 

Eye Color: Brown 

Glasses? Contacts?: N/A

Style of Dress/Typical Outfit(s): Blouse + Jeans or a cute Dress is her favorite styles, however, she’s been wearing a lot of oversized t-shirts and yoga pants if she doesn’t have to leave her place 

Typical Style of Shoes: Sensible shoes. Pretty much will exclusively wear the Sketchers tennis shoes that look like dress shoes WITH fancy insoles to help her back/knees/etc.  

Jewelry? Tattoos? Piercings? Jewelry: Wedding Ring, Cross Necklace, and simple Earrings Tattoos: N/A Piercings: 1 in each ear 

Scars: Small Abdomen scar from emergency appendectomy, scar on her right hand where she accidentally cut herself with a scalpel in med school, various other scars she isn’t sure she knows where they’re from 

Unique Mannerisms/Physical Habits: Bites her lip when she’s concentrating, scratches her arms/hands when she’s nervous/anxious

Athleticism: She has joined a gym, what more do you want from her? 

Health Problems/Illnesses: Severe Depression/Post-Partum Depression, Cat Allergy 

INTELLECT:

Level of Education: Bachelors in Pre-Med, MD in General Surgery 

Languages Spoken: English and Italian 

Level of Self-Esteem: Practically Nonexistent 

Gifts/Talents: Cooking, Helping Others, Crocheting 

Flaws: Constantly puts herself last, 

Mathematical: Very, she loves math 

Makes Decisions Based Mostly On Emotions, or On Logic?: E M O T I O N S

Life Philosophy: Family. First. 

Religious Stance: Very Catholic.

Cautious or Daring?: Very Cautious 

Most Sensitive About/Vulnerable To: Her son, any type of fire, anyone talking about her depression 

Optimist or Pessimist?: Pessimist 

Extrovert or Introvert?: Introvert - though she knows how to turn on charm at parties if needed 

RELATIONSHIPS:

Current Relationship Status: Married.

Sexual Orientation: Heterosexual 

Past Relationships: Few and far between, she counts her marriage as the only real relationship that she’s had 

Primary Reason For Being Broken Up With: Mob family 

Primary Reasons For Breaking Up With People: Depression

Ever Cheated?: No.

Been Cheated On: Not that she knows of

Level of Sexual Experience: The only person she’s ever slept with was her husband 

A Social Person?: When she has to be. She adores family events and is happy to be social then (the Italian Mob family included as long as work is not being discussed) however, she tends to feel like she doesn’t belong anywhere 

Most Comfortable Around: Frankie, her father, Michael, Adamo de Santis: 

Oldest Friend: Adamo de Santis: 

SECRETS:

Life Goals/Dreams: 1) Get her mental health under control  2) Go back to work  3) Feel like she’s atoned for The Fire 

Greatest Fears: Something happening to Michael, Not being Good Enough for Frankie or Michael 

Most Ashamed Of: The Fire 

Hobbies: Crocheting - she does this both to keep her hands surgery ready and to make things that hospitals need, Cooking - her Nonna gave her all the family recipes thank you very much, Attending Church 

Crimes Committed (Was she caught? Charged?): Arson, Murder - covered up by her father 

DETAILS/QUIRKS:

Night Owl or Early Bird?:  Early Bird

Light or Heavy Sleeper?: .Light Sleeper

Favorite Animal: Dogs 

Favorite Food: Lasagne

Least Favorite Food: Hamburgers 

Favorite Book: The Bridgerton Series 

Least Favorite Book: Anything that resembles a brick - it exhausts her just looking at those books 

Favorite Movie: The Great Gatsby (2013)

Least Favorite Movie: Onward (she liked it the first few times she watched it....Michael just has worn it out for her)

Favorite Song: Theme from Schindler’s List 

Favorite Sport: Tennis  

Coffee or Tea?:. Tea

Crunchy or Smooth Peanut Butter?: Crunchy Peanut Butter

Type of Car She Drives: Audi Q7

Lefty or Righty?: Right

Favorite Color: Teal

Cusser?:If Aria cusses you really messed up because it would probably shock ANYONE who knows her

Smoker? Drinker? Drug User?: Smokes: N/A Drinks: Used to be a social wine drinker, but alcohol messes with her medications so she’s stopped drinking as a result  Drug Use: N/A

Biggest Regret: The fire 

Pets: N/A but Michael is asking for a puppy. Aria just doesn’t have the mental capacity to take care of a dog right now 

[anavoliselenu]

twisted emotions chapter 14

Justin’s voice was mechanical, detached, cold. His eyes were as smooth and impenetrable as mercury, but each of his words burned into me, wedged itself like a knife into my heart. The horrors he described, they were incomprehensible. I had lived my own share of horrors, true, but somehow hearing him describe what he’d gone through as a young boy broke me. “How did you get out?”

 “Remo threw a lamp through the window and got burned ripping the curtains off the ceiling. Part of his clothes began burning too, but he didn’t stop. My father’s men were trying to get inside the house and trying to extinguish the flames. Remo grabbed me and helped me out of the window. I jumped and broke my leg from the impact. Remo jumped out with Savio in his arms. He broke his elbow and shoulder because he tried to protect Savio. Our mother was saved by my father’s men later.”

 I swallowed hard, unable to speak, and Justin fell silent as well.

 “It seemed to take forever as I watched my own blood run down my arms. I felt the deep burn and it was almost soothing.” He lifted his arms, wrists up, showing me the long thin scars covered by dark ink. I leaned forward and kissed both of his wrists, my heart aching for Justin—and for Remo.

 I tried to picture Justin as a child, kneeling in his blood, watching his mother cut Remo, smelling the smoke. I could picture how scared he must have been, how utterly broken and shocked that his own mother had tried to kill them in a barbaric way. It explained so much, explained why he had shut off his emotions and why Remo had turned toward them. Different ways to cope with the same horror.

 “Where is she now? Did your father kill her after what she did to you?”

 Justin shook his head. “After the doctors cut Adamo out of her, he sent her off to psychiatric hospital for a while, but eventually he moved her back home.”

  “He forced you to live under a roof with the woman who tried to kill you?”

  Justin’s eyes were focused on his fingers, which ran up and down my side. “For the first few years. What doesn’t kill you makes you stronger.” The smile on his face felt like a bucket of ice. “But things were difficult. Remo became harder to control, and my lack of emotions eventually unsettled my father too much, so he sent us off to boarding school in England, up in the countryside north of Norwich.”

 “But what about Savio and Adamo? Weren’t they too young?”

 Justin nodded. “Adamo was four and Savio seven when we were shipped off. At the time, Remo had already been inducted and killed a few, but he wouldn’t let us be separated, so we went together to England. Of course, that’s what our father had intended. He wanted Remo and me gone. He was scared of us.”

 I couldn’t imagine Remo in a posh boarding school. Justin could look like a sophisticated gentleman when he covered his tattoos and tried to form his expression into one of pleasantries, but Remo was far from restrained and posh.

 “That didn’t work out long,” Justin said quietly. “Eventually, we ran off and returned to the States to kill our father.”

 “But you didn’t. Luca’s Enforcer, Growl, did.”

 “That’s something Remo will never forgive our half-brother for. He robbed us of the chance to destroy our father, piece by piece.”

 I tended to forget that the Falcones and Growl were related. “I’m sorry,” I whispered eventually, my insides churning and hoping that Justin couldn’t see how much his story had affected me.

 Justin made a low sound in his throat, a sound I’d only heard twice before, when he’d been on the verge of snapping, but his face was still unsettlingly void of emotion. His hand on my side dipped lower, over my hip and between my legs.

 I jumped, surprised that he was looking for that kind of closeness in a situation like this. His fingers found my clit. He hovered over me and kissed me, harder than ever before, and his fingers strummed a fast rhythm between my legs. Despite the jumbled mess that was my emotions, my body responded to his kisses and touch.

 Suddenly, he pushed himself up and moved on top of me, his strong arms on either side of my head. I stilled as he held himself over me, his eyes not emotionless at all. Instead, his expression twisted with something akin to despair. He’d never been on top of me during sex.

 “Tell me this is okay for you, Selena,” he managed to say in a raw and dark voice. “I’m not sure I can be as gentle as you need me to be. If you can’t do this, tell me and I’ll leave, but …” He shook his head. “It’s okay,” I whispered, because I wanted to console him in any way I could. If this was what he needed, I could give it to him. I wasn’t scared of Justin or his body.

 JUSTIN

 Selena looked up at me with trust that I had no trouble reading in her eyes. Her hands curled around my shoulders, holding on to me, and I grabbed my cock and guided it toward her pussy. She was wet and soft, even though she had been anxious about this position because it made her feel like she had no control, because my physical strength intimidated her. I lowered myself to my elbows. The closeness would calm her, not unsettle her, and I felt her body become even softer under me.

 She tugged me down for a kiss, and I allowed her this small sliver of control, even if I was longing for something harder, darker. Even if I wanted to exert dominance and not gentleness.

 But I needed to be inside her. Now. I slid in without pause, until her pussy touched my pelvis. I shuddered, needing more, needing it fast, needing to get rid of the sudden pressure on my chest that had never been there before.

 I forced myself to wait a couple of heartbeats, allowed her body to adapt, forced down the raging flood of need in my body. I had never felt like this, like I needed to consume Selena completely. Like she was the only thing that could satisfy a hunger unlike anything I’d ever felt.

 My chest was tight, my stomach hollow, and I wasn’t sure what was going on. Why suddenly every look from Selena made my insides explode with fire, almost painfully but good too.

 I pulled out and thrust back into Selena, and her nails dug into my back, leaving scratches. It felt like relief, an outlet for the pressure. My lips found hers as I slammed into her, and she returned my gaze with a burning need of her own. Again, that same ache for something I didn’t understand. I had always been in control, but I couldn’t control this. I reached between us and rubbed Selena’s clit then latched onto her nipple, sucking and nibbling as I drove her into the bed with long, hard thrusts.

   Even her smell opened the hole in my chest wider. Everything about her made my body react, made me long for something impossible, for something foreign and inexplicable.

 Selena started to shudder under me, but I kept thrusting even as her walls tightened from the force of her orgasm. I got on my knees for more leverage and kept thrusting, hoping it would fill that hole in my stomach, would satiate the deep hunger of my soul, but even as I came with a violent jerk and my cock softened, the longing remained wedged in my chest.

 I sank down on top of Selena and breathed harshly against her throat. Her fingers played with my hair, and she kissed my ear, then my temple, and for some reason those two meaningless gestures fulfilled some of my longing.

 I twisted my face to look at her. Her skin was flushed, and she was breathing fast. She looked stunned, overwhelmed as she met my gaze.

 “Did I hurt you?” I rasped.

 Her brows pulled tight. “No. When you said you couldn’t be gentle, I’d expected worse.”

 So had I. It had felt like I was on the verge of losing control, but somehow Selena had held me fast through it all.

  “Justin?” she asked quietly. “That look on your face, what does it mean?”

 If only I knew.

 She kissed me. “I know our pasts hold horrors, but we can get beyond that, don’t you think?”

 I stroked her cheek. I had gotten past the horrors. I’d seen and done so many horrible things, how could an event from long ago still hold any power over me?

 CHAPTER 23

 SELENA

 The next morning I found Remo pummeling the life out of the punching bag, but all I could think of were Justin’s words, and I knew I’d never see Remo the same way again. Christ, he still terrified me, but I almost understood him—part of him anyway. Remo was cruel and brutal, merciless and quick to snap, but it wasn’t all there was to him.

 “Why are you staring?” he panted as he sent the bag flying with another hard kick.

  I wasn’t even sure why I had come here. It was where Justin and his brothers hung out to play pool, watch fights and discuss business, or pummel a punching bag during the day. In the evening when we all had dinner together, my presence was tolerated, but I usually stayed away the rest of the time, giving them their space.

 My eyes were drawn to Remo’s back. I had never been close enough to him to notice that the tattooed fallen angel covered up burn scars. I hadn’t realized the rough patches on his palms were burns and healed wounds from fending off his mother. Remo turned to me fully, narrowing his eyes, and for a moment I wanted to go over and hug him, hug the young boy who saved Justin and Savio and even the unborn Adamo, who fought an insane mother and burned so they could all live, but Remo was a man now and not one you wanted to console. My eyes lingered on the scar crossing his eyebrow, and compassion for him filled me. Maybe Remo was beyond redemption in many people’s eyes, but he had saved his brothers, had saved Justin.

 I wondered how he remembered that day, but I wasn’t brave enough to ask him. Remo stalked toward me, and I looked up into his face when he stopped right in front of me. “Why are you giving me that fucked-up look?” he growled, but for once there wasn’t only anger in his eyes … there was apprehension.

 I shook my head. “I wanted to thank you for saving Justin.”

 Remo stiffened and something hard and dangerous curled in the depth of his eyes.

 “Two nights ago,” I added, because self-preservation kicked in, but Remo knew that wasn’t what I’d been referring to.

 Yet he stepped back and gave a tense shrug. “Someone had to snap him out of it.”

 I took a step back as well.

 “Oh, and Selena, not a word about any of this to Savio and Adamo. They don’t need to know.”

 About Justin’s breakdown. About the past. They didn’t remember, didn’t know, and keeping that truth from them was probably another way Remo protected them.

 My eyes were closed as I listened to the music, my fingers gliding over the keys. Nothing brought me more serenity than creating melodies. It was an outlet for the chaos of emotions inside of me.

 “You’re really good at it,” Remo said.

 I jumped, my eyes flying open and settling on Remo. He stood in the doorway for a moment then walked toward me. As usual, my body tensed in his presence.

 “Still?” he asked with a wry smile. He leaned against the piano, looking down on me with these impossibly dark, dangerous eyes. “Still terrified of me.”

   I laughed. “Remo, is there a woman in Las Vegas or anywhere else who isn’t scared of you?”

 His smile pulled wider. “There’s no man either.”

 I sighed. My gaze flickered to the scar on his face, remembering the story Justin had told me, wondering how a man capable of unspeakable acts could have risked his life to save his brothers. Remo Falcone was a complete mystery to me.

 Remo’s eyes narrowed, and he moved closer, leaning over me, one hand braced on the keys, causing the piano to release a high-pitched whine. “Why are you looking at me like that?” he growled. “What did Justin tell you?”

 I swallowed. “Don’t come so close,” I said firmly.

 Remo’s lips tightened dangerously, but he straightened his body, giving me more space. “I told you before and I will tell you again: You are Justin’s. You are safe.”

 “I know,” I said. “But I can’t help my body’s reaction to you. Maybe it’ll fade.”

  He shrugged. “He told you about our mother, didn’t he?”

  There was a tone to his voice that made the little hairs on my neck rise. “He did.”

 Remo gave a sharp nod. Then he warned in a low voice, “Some things need to stay buried. She is one of them. And Justin’s emotions probably too. I don’t know what you want from him, but for his sake and yours, don’t push him.”

 Early the next day, Justin and I set out for our first hike together. I wasn’t overly fit, but having Justin to myself, surrounded by beautiful red stone formations, was too enticing. He took us back to the Red Canyon National park. He was quiet during the ride, focused on the street, but his eyes seemed to see beyond the road ahead.

 He surprised me when he took my hand, resting both on my bare thigh. His warmth seeped into me, but that wasn’t why my chest felt warmer.

  We parked our car and set off for the circular trail. Justin was dressed in a tight, white T-shirt and gym shorts, his hair falling into his eyes. He also carried a massive backpack with provisions. I had opted for shorts and a top. It was only seven o’clock, but the day would be hot.

 Justin lightly touched my back. “Ready for your first hike?”

 I smiled. “With you at my side, I can do anything.”

 His expression softened. He nudged me closer and kissed me before he straightened and pointed at the trail. I was still taken aback by his show of affection. Not trying to analyze it, I fell into a stride beside Justin. He pointed out particularly beautiful stone formations. They glowed in different shades of red and orange.

 Despite nature’s beauty, my gaze kept returning to Justin. He had been different since I’d told him I loved him. Did he feel pressured to simulate emotions more often? Was that why he had been acting off? But I couldn’t imagine that Justin yielded under pressure. Justin was strong, hardened. He was a Falcone. Justin slowed his pace when he noticed I was having trouble keeping up. Eventually he chose a spot overlooking a valley of smaller stone formations, so we could take a break. We sat down on the ground, hip to hip, and Justin handed me a sandwich.

 “And? Do you enjoy it?” he asked.

 I tilted my head at him. “The hike or the sandwich?”

 “Both would be optimum.”

 I shook my head. “Optimum…” I put my chin down on his shoulder “…I bet in school the other kids hated how clever and proper you were.”

 Justin’s eyebrows shot up. “I was not proper. And the kids hated me for many reasons.”

 “But I doubt they ever teased you.”

 “When Remo and I first started boarding school in England, the kids didn’t know who we were. We were supposed the blend in. I was two years ahead, same year as Remo. Many of the boys in my classes were taller. They tried taunting me at first.”

 “That didn’t go over well.”

 “A few of them had unfortunate incidents leading to hospital stays,” Justin said. “Most of them were Remo’s doing, but I got a few of them as well.”

 “And you weren’t thrown out of school?”

 “The teachers knew who we were,” Justin said with a dark smile.

 I searched his face, trying to imagine how he had been as a child. Justin met my gaze, and something softer, warmer filled his eyes. He leaned forward, touched my hip, and claimed my mouth for a kiss. I kissed him back, and eventually we stretched out on the warm stone, Justin leaning over me, kissing me, stroking my waist and ribcage. He rolled us over until I was lying on top of him. His hands roamed over my back, but the sound of a twig breaking tore us apart and Justin sat up with me still on top of him. His eyes scanned our surroundings. Then he relaxed again. His lips left a soft trail along my cheek down to my throat. His gentleness, his loving gestures, they made my heart throb with love and despair.

   He simulated love for me. Sometimes, I managed to forget. But whenever I remembered, the pain was acute and heartbreaking. I shoved that thought aside. Justin cupped my cheek again, angled my head until our mouths connected. The kiss was all consuming, and I let it pull me down, let Justin’s hands banish any logical thought. When he settled between my legs and claimed me, nothing else mattered but having Justin above me, inside of me, his mouth on mine, his gray eyes alight with desire and more … I didn’t care if it was simulated or not.

 Afterward, we got dressed and continued our hike. His expression was calm and serene as it scanned the landscape around us, as long as he wasn’t trying to simulate emotions. Was that how we would all be, calm and serene if we hadn’t been burdened with the ability to feel at birth?

 Calm and serene. I wished I could be like that, but my thoughts and emotions were a whirlwind in my body, confusing and terrifying and completely foolish.

  A few days later, Justin had gone to train for a fight with Fabiano, and I was left alone with Remo. It was the first time he was the one to guard me. Justin had mentioned that Remo would be leaving soon for a mission in Outfit territory, which was why he was busy with last minute preparations at home.

 I found him in his favorite spot on the sofa, checking something on his tablet. He didn’t look up when I entered, and I watched him silently.

 He raised his head, his expression hardening. “What now?” His voice was low, on the verge of angry.

 “Why do you enjoy hurting women?” I whispered.

 Remo narrowed his eyes. “I enjoy hurting people. I don’t differentiate if it’s a man or a woman.”

 “And yet you punish women differently than men,” I said.

  “Do I?” he murmured, dark eyes burning into me. He put down his tablet and stood. “They get a choice. They can submit to torture or …”

 “Submit to another form of torture,” I said, growing angry. “You give them a choice between two forms of torture.”

 He stalked toward me, but for once I didn’t back away. Almost three months in his presence gave me the necessary courage, that combined with the knowledge that Justin trusted Remo. “But one of them is far less painful than the other. It’s a choice. More than men get.”

 I shuddered. “I can assure you that it was very painful for me.”

 Remo regarded me a moment. He was close enough I could see the myriad of scars marring his upper body. He seldom wore shirts in the house. In the beginning, I thought it was to unsettle me even more—like Remo wasn’t unsettling enough on his own. “You were a child. Nobody touches children in my territory nor underage girls.” “Don’t they bring more money?” I muttered.

 “Of course. Most fuckers would pay a fortune to pop a girl’s cherry, but we don’t allow that kind of thing in our territory.”

 “Why not? You allow sex slavery, don’t you? You have Romancers who seduce women, make them believe they are being loved and then turn them into whores.”

 Remo sneered. Sometimes I wondered how a single person could harbor so much violence and hatred. “These women start working as whores because they want to please a man they should kill instead. If a woman allows a man to treat her like that, it’s as much her fault as it is his. They agree to sell their bodies because they think they are in love. That’s stupid, and they pay for their stupidity.”

 “They want to help someone they love,” I said indignantly. “Your Romancers make them believe they are indebted to the Camorra, and then the women take over the debt and have to work it off as whores. That’s horrible.”

 Remo took another step closer to me, but I still didn’t back off. “If women act as the weaker sex, they will be treated that way. Why don’t these idiotic women tell my Romancers to go fuck themselves?”

 “You will never understand because you’ve never loved someone.”

 Remo smiled wryly. “Loving someone who doesn’t love you back is the biggest kind of stupidity I can imagine.”

 I flinched, because this hit too close to home, and because I knew he was right. Realization filled Remo’s face and my insides twisted. Now he knew I loved Justin. I turned to leave, but he grasped my wrist.

 “Let me go.”

 For once, he didn’t. Instead, he drew me back so I had to face him. I glared up at his cruel, dark eyes. He shook his head, and I waited for him to taunt me. “He can’t feel.”

 “I know,” I muttered, tugging at his hold, but his fingers tightened around my wrist. Finally, my anger and despair bubbled over. “Do you think I don’t know that? But I can’t change how I feel! Don’t you think I would change it if I could? But love doesn’t work that way. You will never understand.”

  “You are right,” he said in a low voice. “I can’t and I won’t. Why would I want to be a fucking fool?”

  “I hope one day you will find someone you want so much it burns you up inside, and then we’ll talk when she doesn’t return your feelings.”

 Remo backed me against the wall, his expression hard and cruel. “That will never happen. And I’ve burned before, Selena. I can brave flames and torture. I’m not weak like you.”

 “I’m not weak.” I wrenched my wrist out of his grip and shoved him hard. He took a deliberate step back, staring down at my hands still pressed against his chest. I dropped them quickly, shock filling me.

 Remo raised his gaze, and I tensed, worried about his anger, but he was smirking. “Finally, you didn’t let your fucking fear win.”

 I blinked at him, but he stepped back and turned around, heading toward the door, but before he reached it, he stopped and looked at me over his shoulder, his eyes hard. “Oh and, Selena, you will never speak to me like that again. I am your Capo. Understood?”

 I gave stunned nod and watched as he left.

 JUSTIN

 Fabiano aimed a kick at my head. I dodged it a bit too late, and he lightly grazed my chin.

 Surprise crossed over his face, which I used to land two hard punches against his lower back. He gasped but quickly recovered and got in a hit of his own.

 He tilted his head. “What’s up with you?”

 “What do you mean?” I asked carefully, grabbing the towel I’d thrown over the rope. I wiped my face and chest.

 “You have been … less focused today. And it was the same during your fight.”

  I leaned against the post in the corner. My current state wasn’t something I wanted to discuss until I had a better handle on things and had a chance to thoroughly analyze my predicament. “You don’t like the idea with Cavallaro’s niece.”

 Fabiano narrowed his eyes, obviously dissatisfied with the topic change. “Do you really think Remo’s plan is good?”

 Remo’s plan was emotional, fueled by revenge and hate. It was dangerous but it could prove to be effective. I regarded Fabiano. “You know the girl. You feel pity for her?”

 He grimaced. “You know me, Justin. I will follow Remo through hellfire, but unlike you, I still have a couple of emotions.”

 “Before Leona, you convinced everyone that wasn’t the case.”

 “Before Leona, I had convinced myself that I wasn’t capable of emotions,” he said, then narrowed his eyes as if catching himself.

 “Remo’s plan will create upheaval in the Outfit. Cavallaro’s sister will be devastated that her daughter got caught by us, and Dante will feel responsible for his niece. His wife will be worried as well because of their own daughter. This might be one of the times Dante forgoes logic and acts. If that happens, we can beat him.” “Probably. Because no matter what, we can always count on you to be the voice of logic, Justin.”

 I gave a tense nod. Indifference and logical analyzing had guided me through my life, had saved mine and Remo’s life on many occasions when his temper had gotten the better of him. But when I was around Selena, logic was difficult to hold on to. Since the night she told me she loved me, something had shifted. It had started as a small crack but had continuously widened, and I had no way of stopping it. “Are you sure you will be able to do what must be done once you’re in Chicago? You won’t get distracted by thoughts of your father?”

 Hate flashed across Fabiano’s face. “I’ve waited a long time. I can wait a few more weeks or months. You don’t have to worry. I will stand by Remo no matter how insane his plan is. I doubt it’s only motivated by strategic motivations.”

 “Remo’s plans never are. He wants to play with Dante, wants to tear the Outfit apart from the inside. Remo is the best at mind games.”

 “Yeah. Remo knows how to fuck with people’s brain,” Fabiano said with a dark laugh.

 He did, and Cavallaro and Scuderi would soon realize their mistake of fucking with the Camorra.

 CHAPTER 24

 SELENA

 Nothing brought me as much comfort as playing Justin’s song, which was ironic considering it filled me with a crushing longing and wistfulness at the same time.

 When my fingers got to the part where I came to the realization of my feelings, the melody turned low and dark, as if the piano was reluctant to play the notes, like I had been reluctant to admit my feelings to myself.

   Justin stepped in and regarded me silently for a while. I didn’t glance up from the piano keys, playing the song to the end, shivering as the low notes faded away.

 “What does it mean?” Justin murmured. “Since you started the song, it has evolved more and more.”

 I raised my eyes to his. “It’s the story of my feelings for you,” I admitted. “How I came to accept that I love you and that you can never love me back.” As usual, my throat tightened at my admittance.

 Justin’s expression softened ever so slightly and warmth filled his gray eyes, and today I could not take it. This simulated emotion, no matter how good he was at it, would never be enough. I knew it, deep down. “Stop it,” I whispered harshly.

 His eyes narrowed, and he moved closer, his motions graceful as always. And I resented even that. He could be so beautiful and intelligent and powerful, but he could never be the one thing I longed for: emotional.

  I glared up into his beautifully cold face. “You are too good at this. Too good at simulating affection, at pretending that you care for me. So good, sometimes, I almost believe you could really love me, Justin.” Tears welled in my eyes.

 Weak. A fucking fool. What else had Remo called me? He had been right in every regard.

 Justin braced himself on the piano, staring down at me. “Maybe I don’t have to simulate,” he said in that smooth voice. “Maybe I love you.”

 This was the last straw. I could not take anymore. I jumped up from the bench, wishing he could understand how it tore me apart knowing that I loved someone who could never grasp what it meant to look at another and feel like you would shatter if that person was taken from you.

 I gripped the front of his shirt, turning toward my anger. “Don’t lie to me. I told you not to say those words to me if you didn’t mean them. So just don’t.”

 I released his shirt, stunned by the look in his eyes. It seemed as if they were burning with emotion. How good was he at faking this?

 Swallowing thickly, I whirled around, needing to get away before I allowed myself to become trapped in this horrid simulation again. A clear, low note rang out when I was halfway up the stairs, and I froze, listening to the melody unfolding. It was a beautiful melody, every note complimenting the other. It was well composed but lacked emotion. It was a melody a computer might have created because it was just a bunch of notes strung together to please the average ear. You could listen to it over casual dinner with strangers because it never got your pulse rate up, never tore at your heartstrings or filled your body with sweet longing. Never made you want to cry from the sheer force of emotion it carried.

 Then something shifted. At first it was subtle, a slight hiccup in the perfect composition. Darker notes begged for attention and were followed by short, high notes until they battled each other and what appeared to be a perfect composition. Slowly, I turned, terrified of what I would see. Justin sat at the piano, eyes closed, head tilted to the side, as his fingers flew over the keys. He was a sight to behold with his gruesome tattoos, countless scars, and that perfectly sculpted, emotionless face. I was sure no matter how long I’d live, I would never see anything more breathtaking than Justin forcing wondrous notes out of my piano.

 The perfect composition battled with the unhinged notes, and then suddenly, inexplicably, they were no longer fighting for dominance. They wound around each other and it was more perfect together than any calculated symphony could ever be because it carried longing and hope, fear and resignation, love and hate. It carried it all, and I couldn’t protect myself from it.

 The tears I’d been holding back slipped out, and I wrapped my arms around my chest as if that could stop my heart from jumping out of my ribcage. When the last note died off, I stood there shaking.

 Justin opened his eyes and looked at me. And I knew then that if what I saw in Justin’s eyes, what I saw on his face, was simulated, then I could live with it because it filled my heart with so much warmth it burned me from the inside out.

 “What is this?” he asked in a raw voice.

 I took a step toward him. “What is what?”

 “Tell me,” he said as he rose. “What is this if not emotion?”

 I stared, not able to comprehend what he was saying, not daring to hope. “The song … that’s what you feel?”

 Justin walked toward me slowly and regarded me as if I had shattered everything he believed. He stopped right in front of me, standing two steps below me so we were on eyelevel, and I could barely breathe. “Before you, there was calm. There was order and logic.”

  I remembered the beginning of his song, that perfect composition. “And now?” I let out a hoarse exhale.

  “Now,” he growled and his expression twisted, “now there’s chaos.”

 I swallowed. What was I supposed to do with that kind of revelation? He startled me by cupping my cheeks, bringing our faces close, breathing harshly against my mouth, his eyes almost desperate.

 “And you want the calm back,” I whispered.

 His brows drew together as he regarded me. He dipped his head and kissed me, soft and slow, nothing like what I’d expected from the look in his eyes. “Yes and no. Perhaps. I don’t know,” he said quietly. “It takes some getting used to.”

 And it lodged itself in my heart again, that stupid hope that perhaps one day Justin could … Justin would love me.

 JUSTIN

 Remo watched me warily as he put a few more guns into the trunk of his car. He’d be leaving for Chicago in a few hours with Fabiano. We were meeting in the Sugar Trap in thirty minutes for a few last-minute preparations. “I still think I should come with you,” I said firmly. “You and Fabiano are a volatile combination in Chicago.”

 “Fabiano knows more about the Outfit than any of us, and you need to make sure nothing happens here. You can keep things in order if Fabiano and I don’t return.”

  “Your chances of returning would increase if I came with you.”

 “These last couple of weeks, you have been erratic, Justin. I think it’s best if you stay here.”

 I frowned. I had a better handle on myself, and the nightmares had stopped. But I wasn’t the same as I had been before. There was no denying it.

 Remo touched my shoulder. “What is going on? Do I need to worry?”

 “I’m not how I used to be,” I began, not sure how I could describe to him what I could hardly understand myself. “I feel things. It’s still a struggle, still not how normal people feel, I’m sure of it, but it is there.”

 Remo had become very still. “It is because of Selena?”

 I nodded. “Because of her. She fought the demons of her past and made me realize that I, too, was shackled by memories, controlled by something I thought I had put past me.”

 Remo looked away, fury contorting his expression. “Our mother should be dead. Father should have killed her after cutting Adamo out of her. I should have killed her when I took over, but she is still there. Still fucking alive.”

 I touched Remo’s shoulder. “She’s as good as dead. A shadow of a person. She is the past.”

 Remo gave a jerky nod and met my gaze, something dark and dangerous in his eyes. I knew that look and had seen it many times before. “Are you still at my side now that you have gone all soft because of Selena?”

 I gripped his forearm over the Camorra tattoo, and he mirrored the gesture. “We are brothers. Not just by birth, but by choice, and I will stand by your side until I take my last breath. Nothing will change that. Selena knows it, and she accepts it. I have your back.” I paused. “And I’m not going soft, don’t worry. These new sensations … I worried they would weaken me, that I couldn’t be what you needed anymore, but they don’t and they won’t. I still don’t feel a flicker of pity or guilt when I kill and torture for our cause, and that won’t change.”

Remo nodded and released me. For him, it was settled. He knew I was still there for him. “Now that I know you can take care of Vegas while I’m gone, I’ll have to focus on kidnapping the lucky bride.”

 I shook my head. Remo was obsessed. I should have been the voice of reason in this and made sure our plan actually worked. Emotions wouldn’t change the fact that I was the voice of logic between the two of us. That I would always be better at controlling my emotions, but Remo would follow his plan no matter what I said.

 Selena had freed me from the shackles of my past, and I wished the same for Remo. But Remo was Remo, and he would never allow a woman to see any side of him that didn’t evoke terror and fear.

 When I returned home early in the evening, Selena was outside in the garden and practicing how to shoot a gun. She had improved greatly since she’d first held a gun in her hand. Adamo was beside her, adjusting her arms every now and then. He’d be inducted in three weeks, on his fourteenth birthday, and now he’d pulled back even further from Remo, Savio, and myself. The only person he still spoke to on a daily basis was Selena. She shot again, hitting bull’s-eye. Adamo smiled. Then he spotted me and stiffened. After saying something to Selena, he walked off.

 Selena headed my way, the gun still in her hand. She was beaming, looking fucking proud, and my heart did that strange flip again. It always startled me.

 “Did you see that?” she asked as she stopped in front of me.

 “You’re a good shot.”

 Her brows drew together. “Everything all right? You have a strange look on your face again.”

 I took her hand and led her inside the mansion. She followed without hesitation but chanced the occasional confused look at me. When we arrived in our bedroom, I took the gun from her and set it down on the nightstand. Then I pulled her against me and kissed her. Her hands came up to my chest, stroking and tugging, as her mouth moved against mine. She tasted like peppermint and chocolate, and I couldn’t get enough of it.

   Lifting her up, I laid her down on the bed then climbed on top of her, pressing my hard cock against her center. She moaned into my mouth and wrenched my shirt out of my pants. I sat up and quickly discarded my shirt before lowering myself back onto Selena’s soft body.

 Her hands roamed over my back up to my neck, pulling me closer, and I kissed her harder and rocked my hips against her pelvis. She gasped. “Justin. I need you.”

 I pushed her shirt over her head then sucked her breast into my mouth through her lace bra as my hand traveled down to her shorts. I opened them and slipped my hand into her panties, over her soft hair and between her folds, finding her hot and wet and ready.

 Fuck. I ripped her shorts down her legs then made quick work of her panties as well and pushed down my own pants and briefs before I moved back between her legs and thrust into her in one deep, hard move. We groaned and Selena’s nails raked over my back. I growled as my balls twitched. I guided one of her legs up then began fucking her in slow, hard thrusts. Her eyes remained on mine as I elicited from her lips one moan after another. There was trust and love in her eyes. I could see it now. I wasn’t sure why I ever had trouble reading those emotions in her gaze. My own chest tightened, and my dead heart swelled with fucking emotion.

  Fuck, it was painful, but it was the best pain I’d ever felt. I wrapped my arms around Selena, bringing our bodies even closer, needing her fucking closer because only she filled the hole in my chest. Only she could look down into the black abyss that was my soul and find something lovable in it.

 My throat became tight, but I forced the words out that I’d wanted to say for days now. “I love you.” My thrusts faltered when I heard those three words aloud, heard them spill from my lips.

 Selena tensed under me, her eyes widening, and I fucking pulled myself together and thrust into her again. “You do?” she whispered.

 “I do, with my fucking dead heart. With every fucking fiber of my being.”

 She gasped as I angled my thrusts higher, and her eyes still showed incomprehension, like she couldn’t believe it. I reached between us, touching her clit, and claimed her lips. She arched up, shuddering, and I let loose as well. I kept my eyes open, kept watching Selena’s gorgeous face contort with pleasure. I’d always enjoyed sex. It was the closest I could come to feel, but sex with emotion was something else entirely. It was fucking perfection. I remained on top of Selena even as I began to go soft and kissed her once more.

 “You love me,” she whispered. “For real?”

 “I love you. For real. No simulated affection or love ever again, because with you, I don’t need to simulate. You dragged that dead part of me out of the past and revived it. I didn’t die fifteen years ago, but I didn’t live either … until you.”

 She held even tighter on to me. “I love you, Justin. A part of me died six years ago, but you helped me live again.”

 We had both been scarred by our past, but together we fought our demons and came out as the champions. Never had a victory felt better.

 THE END

[sandriinehebert]

Date: December 30th 2019 Location: The Lombardi’s house in Montréal Trigger Warning: Cancer, Family feud, Curse words

OOC notes: Initially I wrote this all in French and then translated the whole thing because who wants to read some sad crap in French? Not me! Some of the drama got lost in translation, but I did my absolute best. Just keep in mind that this conversation happened in French, since that’s the language the Lombardi’s speak at home. Thank you for reading and I’m sorry this got way too long! Oh, bonus, listen to this.

There were still decorations scattered all over the house. There were empty boxes piling out by the couch, on the dining table, and others squeezed between the bars of the stairs. Monica and Christian did not have time to finish the tree before they left for Massachussetts. Their tradition involved a lot of traveling and planning, but they tried the best to adapt themselves. Having two Christmases was not something anyone would ever complain.

Besides, it made the kids laugh when they saw the chaos that their childhood house had become. A tornado swept ornaments and tiny Christmas-y features all over the place, which gave the house a funny, but merry, look.

As per usual, Christian and his daughter busied themselves in the kitchen for most of the day. Monica and her son worked on cleaning the place and doing laundry. They all reunited around the dining table with a delicious feast and plenty of things to talk about. Adamo did most of the talking, but no one was surprised by that. Alessandra put an end to his monologue when she suggested they cleared the coffee table in the living room and pulled out her old Disney princesses themed monopoly board game for their traditional tournament. The father agreed with excitement and poured chips and other snacks into bowls to finish the evening, watching their favorite holiday movie, which was Barbie in the Nutcracker. No matter how old she became, it would always be Sandrine’s favorite thing about the celebrations. She would get up, and helped by her brother, they would do some of the pas de deux or bits of the Sugar Plum Fairy dance. Their parents would cheer, their heart filled with old memories from the previous years.

It was always the same. Outside, there would be so much snow cars could barely drive down the street. They could hear the loud chatters and noises from families nearbies. Italians really did it better.

It was around eight or nine in the evening and, usually by then, everyone was too tired from their flight to stay up any longer. Adamo was already in his old bedroom, snoring loudly. Christian was watching the weather channel to confirm their plans for the next day, which was to watch all the special television shows. And Sandrine would, too, get upstairs but, before she started walking up, she was stopped by her mother.

“Sandrine, will you help me clean the dishes?”

“Mom, I’m exhausted. Can we do that tomorrow?“

“No, come with me, now.” Nikki’s voice rarely sounded so strict and insisting.

She followed her mom to the kitchen and they both stood by the counter, staring at each other. Sandrine started feeling all strange inside, like a knot was being tied in her guts. Something was wrong.

“I talked to your brother about this a while ago and I wanted to wait to have you all here to tell you about it.”

“Why are you so serious mom? You don’t want to make brunch tomorrow, is that it? It’s fine, Dad already suggested we take it easy and we’re all good with —.”

“No, listen to me.” Monica marked a pause. “Do you remember when you came with me and granny to her first appointment, at the hospital? It was before your last competition. You practiced your pirouettes in the waiting room and everyone was cheering for you. You looked so cute with your little costume.”

“I was like seventeen or something! I wasn’t cute! I was panicking because I skipped rehearsals! I don’t see how that’s cute. It’s not because I’m short and I looked like a child that those strangers had the right to patronize me —.”

“I told you to wait for us, while I went with granny. And you waited, because you were always the best girl. And when we walked out, you knew something was not okay... You said you had a...”

“Knot in my stomach.” It was Alessandra’s turn to cut off her mother. “I remember that. We had just learned that Nonna was not doing good. Why are you telling me all this?”

“And we tried to keep it from you for the longest time, but we failed. You were always with me and with dad, and with Nonna. You knew something was off when we asked you to go out with your friends or to go grab a slushie because we needed to talk about grown-up things.”

“What are you trying to say? That you treated me like a child when I was an adult? I know all that already.”

“Do you have that feeling right now?”

Alessandra nodded. It was not just a knot, it felt like a blade piercing through her insides.

“Yes, and...?”

“I have cancer.”

"What?”

“You heard me.”

“No, this can’t be right. You told me your last checkup was perfect... You went like two weeks ago! It was just some random bump. You got so many scans and tests done! They all came up fine!”

“Alessandra Serafina Lombardi, for once, stop talking.”

So, she did. Alessandra was spiralling. She held on the counter when she felt her knees shaking under her weight. She looked over to the living room and Christina was switching the television channels absentmindedly. He was stuck on some hunting and fishing show. He hated hunting and fishing.

“Wait... You said you told Adam...”

“Yes. We told him last summer.”

“Last summer?!” Nothing was making sense anymore.

Her mother was trying to explain herself. She found out she had traces of cancer in her breasts and ovaries last summer, and refused to go through any sort of treatment. She knew all too well how it went, she forced her own mother to go under so many therapies and to take so many pills. She explained Sandrine that she was going to take drugs to ease the pain and see how it progressed. That was why she pushed back all the tests until her doctor insisted. Last summer, the cancer was small and could be easily treated, but, as of now, it was a whole other story. Nikki added that her dad would close the restaurant for a few months, until all the papers would be ready to pass it on to his sous-chef for good. They also said they would use some of the money Corinna gave them at her death to pay for the medicine. All that Alessandra heard was a long, loud, buzzing in her ears.

“Why did you not tell me?”

“We did not want to hurt you.”

“Hurt me?! That’s the funniest thing ever. You thought telling me my mom is dying after the whole world knew would not hurt me?”

“You are too sensitive, Alessandra.”

“I’m not sensitive. I’m tired.” She slammed her fist on the kitchen counter. “I’m not a baby anymore! You can’t hide things from me! You can’t do that to your own daughter! We had this conversation when Nonna got too sick. What did you do with it? Throw it in the fucking trash, right along your common sense that could have reminded you to inform your other child?”

She had always been the other, lesser child. She tried not to care too much about it, to forgive and forget. But it was beginning to eat her alive.

“Alessandra, be respectful.” Christian shouted from the living room.

“You don’t even know what respect is.”

“We protected you until your mother made up her mind and decided not to get treated. We did not want you to live with the same uncertainty as we did!”

“All you did was hiding the truth from me.”

She stormed out of the kitchen and ran up the stairs. Her steps were loud and heavy. As she made it to her old room, she found her brother blocking the way. She started slapping and punching his chest, struggling to have him move at all. Adamo opened his mouth, as if anything he could ever say would make the situation better. Before he could make a sound, Alessandra managed to push him and walk inside, her hand holding the door knob so firmly that her knuckles turned white. She spoke, only to slam the door at his face.

 “Family should never lie to one another."

@devinstonerpg

[blind-band-geek]

Adam was already in bed smiling as he looked over to the opened door just to the left of their room. The other door lead to the nursery, finally after years, housed their first daughter. Lydia maitland. Barbara paced around cradling the baby in her arms as she bounced her gently. Though it was everything they had ever wanted, boy was it tiring. Barbara’s hair was a mess as she rarely had time to do it, and dark bags formed under her eyes from lack of sleep. But, she didn’t mind, she finally had a child and everything was going great.

Once Lydia had fallen asleep barbara gently placed her in the polished crib Adam had made all those years ago. Barbara backed up taking in the sight. That crib, the one that had brought them such pain, now housed their biggest joy. Barbara held her arms as small tears fell from her eyes as she smiled. Letting out a small yawn she left the nursery and walked back into her and Adams room, she rolled down the sleeves of Adams flannel and smoothed out her sleep dress. She placed a bottle on her desk side as she fell dramatically in bed.

Adam was the first to break the silence as he let out a soft laugh. “What’s up mamma bear, you tired?” Barbara huffed and wrapped her tired arms around him, snuggling slightly into his neck. “You day that now, but its your turn in 2 hours.” She weakly waved her hand to the nursery before putting it back on Adams shoulder. Adam wrapped his hand around her waist and placed a few kisses on her head, “oh I know honey.” Barbara smiled and opened her eyes, “oh and don’t do the thing.” Adam tilted his head and looked at her, “the... thing?”

Barbara smiled and threw her hands up dramatically, “Yes the!” She put on an exaggerated version of Adams voice, “oh barb baby but I’m soooo tired can’t you do it? Oh honey bunny you’re so much better at night feeding I’ll do it in the morning. Oh-“ Adam cut her off with a soft kiss, “Surely I don’t sound like that” He spoke after they parted. Barbara sighed happily and snuggled closer to her husband. “Oh Adamo you know I’m just messing with you. Your the best father and helper I could ever ask for.

Adam smiled and ran his hands through her blonde hair, some what getting caught in the mess of curls that it had become. “And your the best mother barb. Just the best.” Barbara hummer happily as she closed her eyes a bit. The room was silent for a bit as Adam thought. He thought about everything leading up to this.. how much pain and struggle they went through, all the hurt and sadness. But... but that was all behind them, they were here now, in their gorgeous house in the suburban hills of Connecticut with their family, their beautiful little family. He nudged Barbara a bit and she stirred again, “mhmm” she snuggled more towards Adam trying to get comfortable again. “Hey Barbara...”

“Yeah?” Adam felt a tear fall down his face as he pulled Barbara closer all of a sudden. “I can’t believe... I can’t believe we’re finally here.” Barbara was a bit taken back by his hug but melted into it shortly, “what do you mean honey?” “Just... we finally have the perfect house, my job, the marriage... and now our kid. We did it.” Barbara laughed, “oh Adam we sure have. And we have a LOT more now. Really, no more switching hobbies we’ve got a real job now! Oh it’s so exciting.” Adam loosened his hug on her letting her snuggle back into his shoulder.

“We do. After all she’s only... dam, a week old.” Barbara smiled as she closed her eyes. “Wow... a week, it feels.. so unreal.” Adam took one last look towards the nursery and looked forward at their fireplace, on it was pictures of their wedding day. Maybe the only day that could rival Lydia’s birth. “Yeah. So what’s on the agenda tomorrow barb?” Barbara groaned and rolled over, “they want me back in the hospital, for a quick test. Just little stuff like, making sure my hormones Arnt out of wack and, making sure I’m all healthy. Stuff like that. So your on Lydia all day,” she rolled back over and raised her eyebrow and smirked, “You think you got it?

The couple was silent than started silently laughing, as to not wake the baby in the room over. “Of corse I’ve got it barb. It’ll be like you never even left, I’ll be that good.” Barbara laughed as both her and Adam yawned. Barbara smiled placing her head on his shoulder again, “aw what’s wrong? Are you tired dad?” Adam sighed and smiled, “Barbara.”

“Adam.”

Barbara looked up at him smiling. Leaning in she pressed a tired kiss against his lips before crashing back on his shoulder. Adam went and placed another kiss on her head before reaching over to turn off the desk lamp. On his desk it was a mess of papers along with his glasses and the cut off wrist band when he had gone to the hospital with Barbara. He smiled as he shut off the light turning back to his wife. Pulling her close he shut his eyes reminding him that was all really real.

They took the next step, and the were determined to be the dam best parents this side of Connecticut has ever seen

[sofia-the-traveller]

August Escapes to Matheran: A Monsoon Paradise Awaits

When the monsoon season sets in, Matheran, a charming hill station nestled in the Sahyadri range, transforms into a magical retreat. The rain breathes life into the lush greenery, and the misty ambiance creates an almost ethereal atmosphere. For those seeking an escape from the city’s hustle and bustle, Matheran in August offers an unparalleled experience. Whether you're traveling solo, with friends, or planning a family vacation, this tranquil destination is the ideal getaway.

Experience Nature's Bounty

Matheran is often celebrated for its car-free policy, making it one of the few places in the world where vehicles are prohibited. This contributes to its peaceful environment, free from the usual noise and pollution. During August, the hill station is enveloped in mist, and the cool breeze carries the fresh scent of rain-soaked earth. The dense forest trails, carpeted in vibrant greenery, lead to stunning viewpoints such as Panorama Point and Louisa Point, where the views are nothing short of spectacular.

Stay in Comfort and Luxury

When it comes to accommodation, Adamo The Resort stands out as the best hotel in Matheran. Known for its blend of luxury and comfort, this resort provides an ideal base for exploring the hill station. Whether you’re looking for a cozy room with modern amenities or a spacious suite for your family, Adamo The Resort caters to all your needs.

As the best resort in Matheran, it offers a range of facilities designed to enhance your stay. From a refreshing swimming pool to rejuvenating spa treatments, you can unwind and relax after a day of exploring. The resort’s proximity to key attractions in Matheran makes it a convenient choice for visitors, while its serene ambiance ensures a peaceful retreat.

Monsoon Adventures

August in Matheran is perfect for those who love the outdoors. The rain-fed waterfalls, such as Charlotte Lake and the cascading Dodhani Waterfalls, are at their most beautiful during this time of year. Trekking enthusiasts can enjoy the numerous trails that crisscross the region, offering varying levels of difficulty and rewarding views. The cool, damp weather adds an extra layer of challenge and excitement to these treks.

Families visiting Matheran will find plenty to do as well. The toy train ride is a hit with children and adults alike, offering panoramic views of the surrounding landscape. Adamo The Resort, one of the top Matheran resorts for family, provides kid-friendly amenities and activities to ensure that the little ones are entertained while the adults relax.

A Culinary Journey

No vacation is complete without indulging in delicious cuisine, and Matheran does not disappoint. The local food is a delightful mix of Maharashtrian and Parsi influences, offering a variety of vegetarian and non-vegetarian options. At Adamo The Resort, the in-house restaurant serves up a range of mouthwatering dishes, from traditional Indian fare to continental delicacies, all prepared with fresh, locally-sourced ingredients.

A Memorable Monsoon Getaway

Matheran in August is truly a monsoon paradise. The refreshing rains, lush landscapes, and serene atmosphere make it a perfect escape from the stresses of daily life. Whether you're looking for adventure, relaxation, or quality family time, Matheran offers something for everyone.

For those seeking the ultimate in comfort and luxury, Adamo The Resort is the ideal choice, offering everything you need for an unforgettable stay in this beautiful hill station. So pack your bags, embrace the monsoon, and discover why Matheran is the perfect destination for an August escape.

[adamgeorgiou]

Eulogy for Pappou

Adamos Georgiou has passed away. Finally, he is allowed to rest.

The obvious and uncomfortable irony of trying to memorialize him now is that he's been gone, in truth, for a long time. The mind of the man who passed away was not that of the man who created his legacy, my family's legacy. It is a harsh thing to point out in such a sensitive setting, but my pappou's late condition is necessary to note in order to properly prioritize the simple, tragic, and relatively short-lived character of his later years; against the bold, sturdy, remarkable stroke of his long past. It's too easy to think that his more recent life was the more relevant, and therefore that it should be what I talk about now. But his dementia stands insignificant and unnoticeable next to the massiveness of his past.

Another irony of this eulogy is that I'm likely not the right person to make it. I mention this not as false humility, but as a proper acknowledgement of the fact that I did not know Adamos Georgiou for the majority of his lucid life, and even when I did, I was just a dumb kid intimidated by this grizzly bear of a man who spoke in foreign poems with a straight back and wise eyes that could just as easily be iron as clay.

I look back and I remember silly but vibrant moments.

Him sitting at his kitchen table, from his reserved corner seat, telling me the old stories of Aesop and Socrates and Plato. I can still see and hear him describing Icarus flying too close to the sun, how the beeswax that held his wings together melted, his pride becoming his downfall. Or how Socrates willingly drank the poison he was sentenced to die by, rather than flee, in order to prove his belief in the righteousness of the justice system that convicted him.

I remember Pappou not liking it when I preferred pizza and hot dogs to his gourmet curries, but always passing a well cut slice of an apple or orange to the backseat during long road trips upstate.

I remember him fiercely giving my sister and me his famous single syllable roar when we were being too rowdy in the car on the way home from church, and us instantly cowering away silent and terrified.

I remember him waking up before dawn with my dad and me to go fishing out in Greenport, him ready with a meticulously packed tackle box full of lures, lines, and savory snacks for both us and the fish.

I remember his gardens, before he gave them up. Me, useless and happy with dirty knees and a spade, always impressed with how he managed dozens of vegetables and herbs, when at our house we only ever had tomatoes and cucumbers.

And I remember his shed, in it a small, red, trapezoid toolbox made out of steel, full of rusted tools; and shelves with a half dozen spools of different types of string, one type, waxy and thin, he would use to make elaborate grips to knives and fishing poles, and another, nylon and white, he would use to hold tomato vines to their supports.

Everything he did was a detailed project that he was consciously steering towards success.

That's why they called him the Captain.

Adamos Georgiou was a man who took life seriously. He didn't let life happen to him, instead he grabbed it in both fists and bent it to his liking as best as he could. When it was time to make a decision for himself and his family, he didn't wait, he acted.

Moving from Cyprus, to The States, back to Cyprus, and then back to The States -- chasing opportunity, avoiding war and risk, and refusing to be disheartened by material injustice -- he never gave up, he never stopped working, and he never compromised his principles. You couldn't break the guy. He wasn't the type that would let his own animal impulses distract him from his higher goals. He believed in the potential for people to create meaning, to create good works; and he knew he was responsible for realizing that potential in his time on Earth.

He took responsibility. That's what I see as the overwhelming theme of his life. He took responsibility. Consciously, and with intent instead of dogma, he took responsibility. And in so many cases, he won the games that he played.

He raised and supported a beautiful, healthy family. He was hospitable to the communities he operated within. And he imparted so many wonderful, significant traditions with such a hearty charisma.

When I was younger, I used to hate going to Greek School. In theory, Greek School was an extracurricular class where you were taught the Greek language through a strict, proven method in a focused, formalized environment. In practice, Greek School was a bunch of Church ladies cycling between filing their nails, picking students to read from single-ply textbooks sold by the Greek Scouts of America, and propagandizing you to be more patriotic through the door-to-door selling of cement and sawdust chocolate bars. I still have flashbacks to one of those teachers spitting on me as she howled, "YOU MUST BE PROUD, ΠΑΙΔΙΑ! Be PROUD THAT YOU ARE GREEK!" And I still have some of those chocolate bars in the back of my freezer. All I ever wanted back then was to get out of that repurposed house-turned-classroom and to go to Taco Bell.

One of the yearly chores of those classes was to memorize a Greek poem and recite it in the church basement for Greek Independence day. This was simultaneously one of the more interesting and nerve racking assignments, because it involved memorization, which I viewed as a kind of game; but also you had demonstrate this skill in front of the entire parish. Year after year, I would do this. I would get on stage, and recite the sounds and syllables I had committed to memory over the weeks, no idea what I was actually saying, and then I'd pass the microphone to the next kid in line, and breath easy until after the ceremony when it was time for bagels and glasses of milk. (Meanwhile you’d get yelled at by the church custodian, Marco, for taking glasses of milk, because as everyone knows milk is for coffee not for children.) None of this ever meant anything to me beyond the moment's anxiety. But then one year something different happened.

I remember our class got off the stage and they invited my pappou up to say a few words. This had never happened any of the years before, to my pappou or any other adult, as far as I can remember. Usually, it was 5 to 6 classes of kids, each a year older than the last, each shuffling through monotone and rote read poems of imperceptible difference, each poem a test of patience and self-control and maddening boredom for those sitting around waiting for the others to finish.

But now my pappou is on stage. I know that guy. He's alone. Why is he up there? What is he doing? And in the brief instant during which all these questions were popping into my mind, he boomed into a multiple paragraph poem, energy overwhelming his posture, and exiting through both his voice and an outstretched finger, which would come down to mark the significance of a specific stanza or piece of punctuation. His greatness in that moment was undeniable and the church-goers sitting in that basement hall stayed silent the entire time, and then when he finished, many minutes later, they crashed at him with reverence and applause.

My pappou had faith in the power and beauty of words and ideas, and he knew it was his responsibility to pass them on and keep them alive, for if he didn't who would? I knew then that many of the adults in that room didn’t have the courage to be onstage, let alone the talent to deliver the words with such confidence or even the knowledge of knowing the words in the first place. And that meant that my pappou likely didn’t start with that talent or knowledge either. At some point in his life, he made the choice to develop and to learn. Someone once said, ‘Courage isn’t an absence of fear. Courage is the willingness to act despite fear.” In that moment, watching my grandfather, I began to understand what it was to be a man. I was proud to be Greek and proud to be his grandson.

My own love of books; of telling stories; of the balance between hospitality and gratitude; of nature, the mountains, the sea, the animals. Every backyard BBQ, every early morning adventure, every household project. The focus, the finesse, and the brute force, at times. The desire to achieve and to persevere and to preserve.

All of the things that together add up to being a good man. All of the things I hold as ideals.

They are rooted in him. In Adamos Georgiou.

When I think now about his death, I truly don't feel sad, as in the heartache of lost love. That grief has already been paid slowly over the years.

Instead, I am overwhelmed with a combined sense of respect and inspiration and thanks.

And if I am sad, it is the sadness of a disappointment that he couldn't be around longer so that I could've thanked him as a man, and so that I could of continued to have learned from him directly, instead of simply through his legacy.

[brandandbranches]

Accommodation in Matheran - Adamo The Resort

The Adamo The Resort has been providing comfortable and best accommodation in Matheran. It offers you warm hospitality with all modern amenities like  Royale Suite with personal terrace, Spa  etc .

To know More, Contact Us: Website: https://www.adamohotels.com/matheran-hotels/adamo-the-resort-matheran/accommodations Mob: 7400071171 Email ID: cro@adamohotels.com Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/AdamoHospitality Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/adamohotels/

[hoteljobber]

Adamo Hospitality (Resorts) Adedress - Ajmera House, Pathakwadi Road, Opp. G.T Hospital, Mumbai Call📞 8591201756 #jobrequirements #hoteljobs #hotelstaff #restaurantjobs #resortjobs #waiterskit #workgobiz (at Mumbai) https://www.instagram.com/p/Cbe_ExqhOZN/?utm_medium=tumblr

[sofia-the-traveller]

Festivals and Fiesta: A Year-Round Calendar of Events in Goa for 2024

Introduction:

Goa, the vibrant coastal state of India, is not just a destination; it’s a celebration waiting to unfold throughout the year. As we step into 2024, the cultural kaleidoscope of Goa promises a tapestry of festivals and fiestas that will enthrall and captivate visitors. In this blog, let’s embark on a journey through the year-round calendar of events in Goa, highlighting the rich cultural heritage and joyous celebrations that make this coastal paradise truly special.

January — Carnival:

Kicking off the year with a burst of color and energy, Goa’s Carnival is a vibrant fiesta that takes to the streets. Extravagant parades, masked performers, and lively music transform the state into a carnival of revelry, celebrating the spirit of joy and togetherness.

February — Shigmo Festival:

Celebrated mainly in rural Goa, the Shigmo Festival is a blend of religious and cultural festivities. Parades feature traditional folk dances, vibrant floats, and processions, showcasing the state’s rich cultural tapestry.

March — Holi:

While Holi is celebrated across India, Goa adds its unique flavor to the festival of colors. Beaches and streets come alive with people playing with vibrant hues, creating a lively and inclusive atmosphere.

April — Easter:

With its significant Christian population, Goa celebrates Easter with great fervor. The beautifully adorned churches host midnight masses, processions, and festivities, making it a spiritually enriching experience.

May — Shivaratri:

Goa’s Shivaratri celebrations are marked by devotees observing fasts, visiting Shiva temples, and participating in night-long prayers. The air is filled with spirituality and devotion during this significant Hindu festival.

June — Sao Joao Festival:

Welcoming the monsoon with joyous celebrations, the Sao Joao Festival involves people jumping into wells and rivers to retrieve gifts thrown by villagers. The festive spirit, coupled with traditional music and dance, marks the onset of the rainy season.

July — Feast of St. Peter and Paul:

Honoring the patron saints of fishermen, this feast is celebrated with boat races, processions, and traditional Goan cuisine. It’s a time when the coastal communities come together to express gratitude and celebrate their maritime heritage.

August — Bonderam Festival:

Taking place on Divar Island, Bonderam Festival is a unique celebration featuring a colorful parade with vibrant flags. The festivities include traditional dances, music, and a lively atmosphere that captivates locals and visitors alike.

September — Ganesh Chaturthi:

The birth of Lord Ganesha is celebrated with grandeur in Goa, with beautifully crafted idols placed in homes and public pandals. Processions, cultural performances, and immersion ceremonies make it a lively and joyous occasion.

October — Diwali:

Diwali, the festival of lights, is celebrated with enthusiasm in Goa. Homes are adorned with lamps and candles, and the night sky is illuminated with fireworks. The festive spirit extends to traditional sweets, cultural performances, and family gatherings.

November — International Film Festival of India (IFFI):

A cinematic extravaganza, IFFI attracts filmmakers, actors, and film enthusiasts from around the world. It’s a celebration of global cinema, featuring screenings, discussions, and red-carpet events.

December — Christmas and New Year’s Eve:

Goa comes alive with festive cheer during Christmas, marked by beautifully decorated churches, festive markets, and cultural events. The celebrations seamlessly transition into New Year’s Eve, where beach parties, music festivals, and fireworks create an electrifying atmosphere.

Conclusion:

Goa, with its vibrant year-round calendar of events, stands as a testament to the state’s rich cultural heritage and inclusive spirit. Each festival and fiesta adds a unique layer to the tapestry of Goa’s celebrations, inviting visitors to immerse themselves in the joyous atmosphere. As you plan your visit to this coastal paradise in 2024, ensure an unforgettable stay by choosing to stay with Adamo the Bellus, acclaimed as the best hotel in Goa and conveniently located near the pristine Calangute Beach. Be prepared to witness the kaleidoscope of festivities that make Goa not just a destination but a continuous celebration of life and culture. With Adamo the Bellus as your base, you can seamlessly blend the cultural richness of Goa’s events with the luxury and comfort of your accommodation, creating cherished memories of your time in this vibrant coastal haven.

[adamothebellus]

Best Accommodation in Goa: Luxurious Goa Hotel Accommodation at Adamo The Bellus

Discover the best accommodation in Goa at Adamo The Bellus, offering Luxury Resort North Goa that blends comfort and elegance. Located in the vibrant heart of Calangute, our hotel features spacious rooms, modern amenities, and exceptional service. Enjoy a relaxing stay with top-notch facilities, including a serene pool, rejuvenating spa, and delectable dining options. Whether you're on a family vacation or a romantic getaway, Adamo The Bellus ensures an unforgettable experience. Choose us for unparalleled hospitality and the finest accommodations in Goa.

[rishipanwar99]

Accommodation in Matheran

The Village Super Deluxe defines luxury with a touch of homely hospitality. Unwind after a tiring and adventurous day or get cosy before stepping out, our comfortable accommodation will make sure you are always in the holiday mood.

For more details:

https://www.adamohotels.com/matheran-hotels/adamo-the-village-matheran/accommodations

[carsfrombefore]

Ônibus de Campinas (SP) circulam com adesivação especial para alertar sobre a prevenção do câncer

Ônibus de Campinas (SP) circulam com adesivação especial para alertar sobre a prevenção do câncer

Publicado em: 31 de outubro de 2020 Um dos ônibus com adesivação especial Ação é uma parceria da Transurc, que reúne as viações, com o Hospital Santa Tereza ADAMO BAZANI As empresas de ônibus de Campinas, no interior paulista, representadas pela Transurc, e o Hospital Santa Tereza firmaram parceria para uma campanha que mostra a importância da prevenção do câncer, em especial, de mama, colo de…

[gaur9258]

4 star hotel near calangute goa

Book Ravishing and Luxurious 4-star hotels in Calangute Beach Goa, North Goa - Adamo The Bellus. A Destination for Global Travellers assuring scenic views and unquestionable hospitality. The Fine view of the Arabian Sea with various other amenities like Spa, Swimming pool & Multi dining options.